Last night I decided to have an internet-free day today, and so I did. After posting a few messages this morning, I turned off my computer and removed from view all of the clocks in the house. The two in the kitchen are covered with post-its, the bedroom clock is now facing the wall, and the battery operated clock in the dining room is face down on a chair. When using the camera on my phone, I did my best to avoid glancing at the time.
I don’t know which had a bigger impact on shifting my consciousness, no computer or no clock. I think they worked in tandem to support my intention for the day, which was to stay in the present moment. I’ve written about this before, and I’ll be writing about it again, I’m sure. How can I be here, on this very day, at this hour, in this cottage by the sea, when my mind keeps drifting? And believe me, it drifts to the mundane, mainly future plans—what to take to the church potluck, do I need a new pair of sneakers, is it time for lunch yet, who’s emailed me, and what’s happening on Face Book?
I have to admit that that kind of mental chatter not only feels like noise, it is noise. Particularly up here where I want to experience a different kind of silence than what my life back home offers. I came to the cottage because I was looking for silence, solitude and simplicity and sometimes want to be alone. My goodness, how easy to become addicted to computers and clocks, even up here.
Tomorrow I’m going to have another internet-free day and will keep the clocks covered. Like today, I presume that I will do a lot of sitting and watching, walking and looking, meditating and not thinking.
I don’t know which had a bigger impact on shifting my consciousness, no computer or no clock. I think they worked in tandem to support my intention for the day, which was to stay in the present moment. I’ve written about this before, and I’ll be writing about it again, I’m sure. How can I be here, on this very day, at this hour, in this cottage by the sea, when my mind keeps drifting? And believe me, it drifts to the mundane, mainly future plans—what to take to the church potluck, do I need a new pair of sneakers, is it time for lunch yet, who’s emailed me, and what’s happening on Face Book?
I have to admit that that kind of mental chatter not only feels like noise, it is noise. Particularly up here where I want to experience a different kind of silence than what my life back home offers. I came to the cottage because I was looking for silence, solitude and simplicity and sometimes want to be alone. My goodness, how easy to become addicted to computers and clocks, even up here.
Tomorrow I’m going to have another internet-free day and will keep the clocks covered. Like today, I presume that I will do a lot of sitting and watching, walking and looking, meditating and not thinking.